He followed my eyes to the table and the license plates were there. He actually paled.
"Where did you get them?"
"Under the seat of the car Ferd and I stole last night at Devil's Island—my car, which you said was being overhauled!"
He drew a long breath. Then he got down on his knees and put his head in my lap.
"I've had my lesson—honest, honey!" he said. "Some darned fool suggested a picnic on one of those islands—mixed couples—and I was ass enough to agree. I took Ida Jackson. We didn't have any picnic—the champagne was stolen——"
"Ferd and I——" I put in.
"And then my car went——"
"My car—and I took it."
"And we spent all the evening and part of the night chasing the thing for fear you'd hear of it!" He looked up at me and there were dark circles round his eyes. "I haven't been to bed at all, honey," he said humbly. "It's been a rotten night! I've had enough affinity for the rest of my life. There's nobody like you!"
I would not kiss him just then, but I let him lie down on my couch and hold my hand until he dropped asleep. Somehow the words of Ferd's silly card kept running through my head: